


Nomos

by ChaoticMimzy



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Improper use of magic, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Past Character Death, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, ouchie, papa nihil is still a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-03 20:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticMimzy/pseuds/ChaoticMimzy
Summary: “Is this your will?” Swiss asked the trees, anger causing a growl to rumble free. “To kill the Sons who worshipped you? To have them slaughtered like cattle? Is this your will?” Silence was the only response he got. “Answer me! Answer me, damn it!” He cried, voice echoing, startling the birds from their nests. A deer that had been grazing nearby spooked, darting away, white tail the only sign of it.The forest did not answer.





	1. Summoning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, it's me. I have too many WIPs. This is another one. It started as me just wanting to get Swiss's history written down for a roleplay, and then it evolved into more, and now we're here. This is... Admittedly dark. There's going to be talk of some darker subjects. I will put warnings where they need to be.  
Without further ado-  
Nomos.
> 
> you can come yodel at me about this at: https://fakexface.tumblr.com

Nomos: Latin, meaning air, tune.

* * *

May 1st, 2018  
5:25 a.m.

* * *

Dewdrop had locked himself within his dorm. The Abbey was silent, save for the occasional night bird singing its song. The morning sun was just beginning to break over the grounds. Silent footsteps brought the Ghoul through the forest; the ground damp underfoot due to a heavy dew having settled. Beside him walked a much larger Ghoul, their hands clasped behind their back. Neither spoke until they broke into a clearing.

Only then did Omega let out a soft sound- a whine, one of pure sorrow and pain. Swiss remained silent, allowing the taller Ghoul to grieve. His mind was drifting as he listened to the distant sound of the Abbey’s back door _squeaking_ open, the sounds of muffled conversation. Sharp ears allowed him to pick up certain words- ‘death’, ‘lethal injection’, ‘Ghouls?’.

His head tilted as more footsteps- louder, not bothering to hide their presence- came shuffling through the damp underbrush. Alpha appeared, followed by Mist, Air, Earth, and Ifrit. Swiss gave a barely imperceptible nod before his gaze returned to the clearing.

“What’s gonna happen with us?” Earth asked softly, arms wrapping around himself tightly.

“Nothing.” Swiss replied. “Nothing will happen. You will remain with the Abbey unless your contract is over. If it is- well. You’d know. You wouldn’t still be here.” His words were clipped, short. His tail twitched harshly, scattering dew droplets from the blades of grass underfoot.

“Why?” Alpha’s voice was soft, but unlike Earth’s, his held nothing but cold anger. “Why Papa? Why _all_ of the Papas?”

A shake of the head. “I don’t know. There have been others in the past that have been killed for the better of the church. But this? I can’t see why.” An exasperated snarl curled his lip.

“So what now?” Ifrit asked, sidling closer to Swiss. He could feel the heat radiating off of the Fire Ghoul; the damp grass began to steam beneath his feet. “We just… Go on with our lives?”

Swiss fell silent, his brow furrowing. The other Ghouls all gathered closer; Alpha leaned against Omega, Mist curled herself around Earth, Air wormed his way between Alpha and Omega.

“You go on with your life and keep an ear open. Sleep with one eye closed. And pray to Lucifer that you won’t be called upon to do the dirty deeds that the Clergy doesn’t want to do, now that you’re all without a binding master.” With that, the non-elemental Ghoul walked away, feet carrying him across the clearing as the sun began to turn the sky from navy to royal blue, deep lilac, baby pink.

His hands shook as he shoved them into his pockets; his eyes fogged over with tears as he took a harsh right, trailing back towards the Abbey. He could hear Earth sobbing, could feel Omega’s anger even here. The Quintessence Ghoul would cause a sonic boom if he wasn’t careful.

He lost his footing, crashing to the floor of the forest. Eyes squeezing shut, he sat back upon his knees, let his head tilt back, and allowed for tears to flow freely. Clawed fingers gripped at the silver mask and tugged it off harshly, the sides scraping his face. This was supposed to be over. No more subterfuge, no more movements hidden in the shadows. This was supposed to be done. But here they were; the Siblings would be breaking their fast and wondering where their Papas were. Word would spread like wildfire, and their Church would be in shambles once more.

He could still hear the last one, clear as day. The begging, the pleading, the sobbing. She had been barely over eighteen, not even a full Sister yet. He could feel the warmth of her blood flowing over his hands. He could see her eyes bulging in surprise, her mouth open in a silent cry for _“Mercy! Please, have mercy!”_

Papa Nihil did not want _mercy_. Swiss could not give mercy.

The Ghoul doubled over, and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor, gagging and heaving. A cold sweat broke across his skin as he shuddered, eyes squeezing shut. Face after face danced before his eyes. Blood, so much blood, drowning him. Screams- for mercy, for help, out of fear and anger. Deep chocolate hues opened, staring at the tree trunks before him.

“Is this your will?” He asked the trees, anger causing a growl to rumble free. “To kill the Sons who worshipped you? To have them slaughtered like cattle? _Is this your will?_” Silence was the only response he got. “Answer me! Answer me, damn it!” He cried, voice echoing, startling the birds from their nests. A deer that had been grazing nearby spooked, darting away, white tail the only sign of it.

The forest did not answer.

* * *

Verona, Italy  
October 31st, 1490  
12:30 a.m.

* * *

“This is dangerous.” The man spoke softly, his voice holding an almost fond tone as he watched the blood drip from the altar. The woman had been a worthy sacrifice, truly; she had praised His Dark Excellency to her last breath. His gaze shifted, falling upon an older woman, her hair a deep gray. Sister Imperator was her title; she was not the first to wield it, nor would she be the last. But she had been there before he was born.

“It is necessary.” She replied, kneeling. The candles were lit, the room cold and dark. She began to chant, her voice soft. He did not interrupt; he could not aid in this. He was still learning everything himself, and this was far beyond his skill. There were four other Sisters within the room, ages varying. His father stood behind him, robes a rich, elegant ruby, weaved with golden thread along the collar and sleeves.

Nihil Emeritus shivered as a wind swept through the room. His father reached out, placing a hand upon his shoulder, grounding him. Vergil was safe within the Abbey, far above them. Should anything go wrong, he would at least be safe.

Nihil prayed to Lucifer that nothing would go wrong.

The candles flickered; the shadows seemed to stretch. Time felt off, slow and yet far too fast all at once. He felt dizzy; a Sister nearly fell forward before catching herself. Their voices were rising from a pianissimo to a mezzo-forte. The air felt as if it were being sucked out of the room.

And then, a harsh, loud _screech_ sounded. He hadn’t seen it happen- one moment, the center of the summoning circle was empty. The next, a creature lay there upon it’s back, it’s eyes wide. Behind him, Origo let out a surprised sound. He kept a hand upon Nihil’s shoulder and leaned forward, studying the creature.

“A Ghoul,” Sister Imperator spoke, voice weak. “We have summoned a Ghoul.”

“Is it an elemental?” Nihil asked, eyes wide as he crouched down, reaching a tentative hand out. The creature- Ghoul- looked over, and a soft noise escaped it. It sounded similar to a kitten’s cry.

“We… Cannot be certain.” One Sister admitted, brows furrowing over delicate blue eyes. “I have… Never done this before.”

“Then, we will wait.”

“Papa, do you know? You have Ghouls…” Nihil asked, looking up and over his shoulder at the man.

Origo hummed, his head tilting as he crossed the barrier, snuffing out a candle as he went, effectively breaking the circle. He crouched low, holding a hand over the Ghoul, watching as it reached up with it’s small, clawed fingers. “No element.” He stated simply, shaking his head. “A rarity. Useless. I doubt it will survive.”

“Give it to Vergil.” Nihil spoke up quickly, a smile curling his lips as the little Ghoul rolled over, revealing a tail. The spade was smooth, the tip sharp. “He will need to understand how Ghouls work, after all.”

Origo’s brow raised, yet he still nodded, gesturing for Sister Imperator to swaddle the creature. “If he survives the night, he will become Vergil’s.” With that, the Head of the Church left; one by one, the sisters filed out, leaving Nihil behind with the little Ghoul. This was unfamiliar territory for him. Yet, he still lifted the trilling creature and held him close, as he once did with Vergil. He climbed the stairs carefully, making sure not to trip on the steep, worn stone. The torches hung close; he could see their reflection in the dark irises of the Ghoul.

“You will survive, little one.” Nihil whispered, brow furrowing. “You must.”

The Ghoul stopped trilling, and somehow, Nihil knew that it understood him.


	2. Becoming a Hound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Hound and a Bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so we begin.   
There's some brief mentions of gore, nothing major. The next chapter is where it gets  
More detailed.   
Enjoy meeting new characters- I gave the First's Ghouls names bc they need NAMES. Everyone needs a name. 
> 
> Come yodel at me about Ghost at: https://fakexface.tumblr.com

September 13th, 1545  
Gothenburg, Sweden

* * *

His breath came in harsh pants as he stood within the center of the circle. Across from him stood Aër, who hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. Around him stood other Ghouls- Ghouls that the Clergy had summoned long before he came around. His lip was busted; blood trickled slowly down his chin, dropping to the floor. A deep breath was pulled, and he lunged once more, wooden blades raised high over his head.

Aër raised a hand, a sharp gust of wind forcing Swiss to brace himself. This time, he did not falter; his swords raised, ready for when the kick came. And come it did, the wooden blades clacking together. He grunted with the force, taking a step back, before going _low_. Aër’s eyes widened; he was unprepared as Nomos swept his legs out from under him. His arms flailed, and he barely caught himself with a gust of wind.

“Better.” Aër complimented, nodding as the young Ghoul grinned, causing his lip to bleed even more. “Come, your lip.” Nomos hesitated, reaching up to touch his lip before he simply licked the blood away.

“No. Not done yet.” He was still getting a grasp on the language of humans, it seemed.

Nomos had been summoned a mere forty-five years ago; he was still a kit by all means. He’d been young when summoned, it seemed. Aër had asked him if he remembered anything prior to his summoning. Apparently he remembered playing with other kits upon a mountainside. He remembered it being cold, and remembered watching the elders sharpen wicked obsidian blades.

He was a non-elemental Ghoul; his tribe had most likely been killed after he’d been summoned.

“You are done.” Aër replied, shaking his head. Nomos didn’t agree, as he lunged- only to be dragged three feet into the air and promptly dropped on his rear. “You are _done_, Nomos.”

Nomos groaned, rolling onto his side, lip jutting out in a pout. “That pains.”

“Hurts!” Vitae chirped from her position on the sidelines, a grin pulling at her lips as she watched Nomos roll about. “Hurts is the word you are looking for!”

“Hurts.” Nomos repeated as he slowly, painfully, climbed to his feet. “What… Do we-do we do… Now?”

“Nihil needs to see you.” Came a new voice- a calm voice, one that Nomos had grown used to. Vergil, Papa Nihil’s son. Papa Nihil- formerly just Nihil- was his father. Origo had passed away suddenly; the Ghouls had whispered about it being an inside job, but no one was certain. Now, Nihil was Papa, and Vergil was training to take his place when the time came. “Just Nomos.”

“Oh, what’d you do?” Vitae teased, nudging his shoulder with hers before clambering down to slink to Vergil’s side. They- Aër, Vitae, Terra, and Ignis- were his Ghouls. Nomos was supposed to be one of them, too.

But he didn’t have an element. He had no place with them. He had no use there.

Terra cupped his face gently in one large palm before wiping away the blood with a spare cloth. “Can’t go see him all bloody.” The Earth Ghoul mumbled before releasing Nomos’ face.

Bowing low, Nomos paused for a moment before rising and walking away, keeping his pace slow, casual- long enough for him to turn the corner. Then, he broke into a jog, taking the hidden corridors that only Ghouls knew of to avoid startling any of the Siblings.

The Abbey was a large structure, portions still being built. Even so, it was beautiful, mimicking the Roman Catholic churches. The floors were smooth stone, the walls rougher but steady. He had no doubt that it would one day become a beautiful work of architecture that hundreds would come to marvel at.

He slowed to a stop, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself. He hadn’t done anything to get himself into trouble; he was safe. His contract would not end so soon. Slipping out of the shadows, he made his way down the hall, gaze trained ahead and not on the Siblings who passed by. He knew he was a mess- dark curls wild, dirt and dust upon his clothing. He raised a hand to knock, hesitated, and promptly knocked thrice upon the heavy mahogany doors.

“Enter!” Came the cheerful voice of Nihil from beyond. Nomos pushed the door open before sliding it shut behind himself. He’d been taught the proper etiquette when in the presence of a Papa: shoulders squared, hands behind the back, chin raised. A proper little solider. “Ah, Nomos! Good, good.”

Nihil was a handsome man appearing to be only his late twenties, with rich dark hair and startling heterochromatic eyes- one green, the other a misty gray. His smile was infectious, as well. Beside his desk stood a woman, dressed head to toe in black, her face hidden from view by a mask of pure white. She was one of Papa’s Ghouls, then, Nomos realized. A guard.

“Papa,” Nomos greeted, bowing low at the waist with a fist over his heart before rising once more. “I… Was told. You needed me?” Stunted words; the language of humans felt strange upon his forked tongue even now.

“Yes, yes. I take it you’ve been practicing?” A nod. “Good! I have found a job for you, Nomos.” Papa rose from his seat, hands clasped before him as he slowly walked around the large oak desk. “You are good at fighting, but I have noticed you are even better at hiding.” At this, Nomos flushed, ducking his head low. “No, no! Do not get embarrassed! It is a good thing- a very good thing, you will find.” Papa gestured for the Ghoulette to step closer; even from here, Nomos could feel the power radiating from her.

A Quintessence Ghoulette. A rarity.

“This is Umbra. She is one of my Ghouls. She will be overseeing your training from now on.”

Confusion rippled across Nomos’ face. “Pardon?”

“Umbra will train you.” Papa repeated, head tilting to the side. “Unless you object?” His tone sounded friendly, but Nomos could hear the icy undertone lingering.

“No, Papa.” Nomos replied with a quick shake of the head. “Do not… Object.”

Nihil clapped his hands together with a bright smile. “Meraviglioso! Now, Umbra will train you with blades, since you do not have a Element, of course. You have been training with wooden blades, yes?”

A nod; Nomos was still reeling from this sudden change.

“Good! There is one other thing…” Papa stepped closer, close enough that Nomos could reach out and touch his face if he wanted. He did not. “You will, ah… Become one of my… Hounds.”

“Hounds?” Nomos echoed, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing you need to worry about!” Nihil replied with a wave of the hand. “Is good title! Esteemed title!”

To the side, Umbra stiffened, but did not speak. Nomos decided not to comment, and only nodded in agreement. Somehow, he felt that there was far more to this new job than what he was being made aware of.

* * *

November 1st, 1545  
3:33 a.m.

* * *

The girl was begging for Umbra to let go. Umbra did not let go. Swiss walked behind them, his knees threatening to give out as they continued their trek down through the catacombs. They were styled in a spiral, with the occasional pathway shooting off into the darkness. Down here, everything reeked of death. He didn’t let his gaze stray from the back of Umbra’s black cloak, lest he catch a glimpse of something he shouldn’t.

Something brushed against the back of his neck. He kept walking.

“Please- please, I will tell no one of what I saw!” The girl gasped, trying to slow Umbra down. But Umbra continued to walk, dragging her by her arm. “I promise! I promise! I swear it!”

“It’s too late for that.” Umbra’s voice was cold, cutting. Her tail was stiff as they walked, hanging low, the spade smooth like every other Quintessence Ghoul, though she had pierced it with golden rings on the right side. They jingled with every step. Nomos focused on them.

Umbra took a sharp left, and they climbed down steep stairs before entering a large chamber. No windows were here; they were far too below ground to ever hope to see sunlight. The floor was dirt; the walls were dirt and stone. The ceiling was stone. Candles, long burnt out, rested in one corner. Nomos stood in the doorway, playing guard dog. Behind him, something whispered his name.

He shuddered.

“Nomos.” Umbra stated, her head snapping towards him. He stood straighter, watching as she held out a blade. “Would you care to do the honors?”

He shook his head. She stared him down for a moment longer, piercing gray gaze unwavering. She nodded, sliding the wicked blade into its sheath. He did not look away as she forced the girl to her knees.

She was praying, he realized. Praying- to the false God. A bad decision on her part. He could not hear her here.

Umbra didn’t wait a moment longer, her claws sliding through the porcelain skin of the girl’s throat. Ruby spilled free; the girl reached up, gagging, choking on her own blood. Nomos couldn’t look away, his eyes wide as he watched her struggle to draw breath. Her hands were soaked with her own blood, her dress turning from white to pink to red. Her eyes rolled back in her head before she fell limp to the dirt, her blood soaking it, darkening it.

“What do we do with body?” Nomos asked after a moment, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise.

Umbra raised the bottom of her mask- not enough that Nomos could see what lurked within, but enough to be able to lick the blood from her fingers. “Leave it,” she replied after she finished cleaning the blood from her hand. “Leave it for the Fog Weaver or whatever else lurks down here.”

“Fog Weaver?” Nomos asked, stepping aside as Umbra moved past.

“Don’t ask.” She shook her head, and from her tone alone, Nomos knew better than to push the subject. If anything, he’d go to the library and see if the archives held any sort of information on this _‘Fog Weaver’_. He fell into step beside the Ghoulette, his hands still shaking. “The girl had to die- you understand this, right?”

“I think so.”

“She was not a Sibling. She should have never been able to come here- but she did. And she was running back to the town. It’s a good thing that Terra caught her, otherwise- well. We’d be dealing with pitchforks and torches right now.” Umbra sighed, shaking her head. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to be truthful with me, understood?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what Nihil meant when he said you would become a Hound?” She didn’t stop walking; Nomos almost tripped on the top stair.

“I… Have idea.” Nomos admitted softly, his brows furrowing. He hadn’t received his mask yet, but would within the coming days.

Umbra sighed and stopped, popping her knuckles. “I am a Hound. Terra is a Hound. There are others- about twenty of us. We all have different jobs- I’m, obviously, an executioner. Terra is a Hunter. You… You are going to become a bait dog at first.”

“Bait dog?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

“A bait dog. You’ll be sent out to lure something in, and then we’ll go in for the kill.” She shook her head slowly; he could hear the frustration in her voice. “No one even bothered to tell you this?”

He shook his head.

“For Belial’s sake… Alright. Tomorrow, we’re going for a run through the woods. I like you, Nomos. You’re good at fighting. That’s why you were chosen. I’m going to bring you into the woods, and I’m going to show you where every pitfall and trap is so you don’t get yourself killed early.” With that, she started walking again. Nomos had to jog to catch up with her. “And I’m gonna fight you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she turned to him, her eyes shining in the torch light, “I want you to prove Nihil wrong.”

* * *

January 8th, 1546  
11:51 p.m.

* * *

His lungs burned as he ran. Something had broken through the perimeter, according to Vitae. Nihil had sent him out to find it- and find it, he did. Or, more accurately, it found him. He ducked beneath a low branch and nearly tripped into a pitfall. The creature- what had they called it? An Elder-something or other?- was fast on his tail.

Too many legs. Too many eyes. Too many teeth.

A whine pulled free of Nomos as he forced himself to run faster, to just make it to the inner circle. He could feel Umbra’s presence, could hear Vergil yelling an incantation. He broke through the tree line, and was almost there-

Something hooked around his leg, causing him to fall face forward into the ground. Stars erupted before his eyes; his ears rang. Warm liquid trailed over his lips. Oh, he’d broken his nose, most likely. His claws dug into the rich earth, trying to pull himself free, but the claws digging into the flesh of his calve wouldn’t let go.

He was ready to scream when his hearing suddenly went once more. Eyes wide, his heard jerked up, watching as Aer stalked forward, one hand raised while the other gripped a curved blade. A ringing sabre, that’s what it was. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself instead suddenly falling. His stomach lurched, and then, ground was beneath him once more. Rolling over, a groan left him as he stared up at the night sky. Umbra was kneeling beside him, asking him question after question- but none of the words made sense.

“It hurts.” He mumbled, before his vision went dark.

Nihil watched as the hellspawn was slain; a summoning gone horribly wrong. One of the Sisters first attempts. His gaze trailed down to Nomos, watching as Vitae cleaned out his wound. He did good- a good little bait dog. His scent was strong; perhaps he was going into a heat, soon? Or perhaps it was because he was a non-elemental, making him seem weaker. Either way, he’d done his job perfectly.

“He’ll be receiving a blade, soon.” He stated, watching as Umbra tensed up. “There is a Ritual coming up. He will be gifted with his mask and blades then - as you all were given, once.”

“Aren’t you going to show an ounce of remorse?” Umbra asked, looking up towards the Papa. “He’s injured.”

“He’ll survive. He’s lived this long, hasn’t he?” Nihil replied with a cold smile before he turned on his heel and retreated back into the church.

Jaw clenching, Umbra stood back and watched as Terra lifted Nomos with little trouble. Shaking her head, she followed after the Ghouls. She’d been here longer than they had; she’d been with Nihil since he was a child. Too many years, she’d been alive.

She knew what he had done. She knew the blood upon his hands. For the better of the church, he claimed. She wasn’t sure if that was true.

She wasn’t sure about a lot of things, anymore.


	3. Hound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things you shouldn't do.  
Like taking without asking.  
Also, Ghoulettes are Scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so this chapter is kinda short, but it's also uh. Kinda graphic at the beginning. Trigger Warnings apply for mentions of sexual assault and gore.

June 15th, 1598  
Outside of Gothenburg, Sweden, within the Abbey

* * *

“This was a _mistake_!” The man attempted, crawling backwards upon the floor. “All a mistake!”

“So, your hand _accidentally_ slid into her pants? Your cock _accidentally_ breached her? You _accidentally_ took what was not yours to take without her permission?” Nomos asked, voice cold behind the stark white mask. Unlike Umbra’s his had a nose carved into it, as well as artificial cheek bones. “Things like that don’t accidentally occur. You’ve broken a law, Monsieur.”

“You wretched little gremlin!” The priest hissed, finally climbing to his knees. “Papa would never-”

“Papa made it _very_ clear on what was to be done with you.” Umbra spoke as she entered the room, closing the door behind herself and locking it. “And I’m afraid none of it is gentle or pleasant.”

“We should have you _drawn_ and _quartered_. Or perhaps weigh you down with stones and thrown into the lake.” Nomos mused, head tilting to the side roughly. “Perhaps we should take a note from the Romanians. Impale you and let you die slowly.”

“Our father, who art in Hell,” the man began to pray.

Nomos did not allow him the chance as he stalked forward, grabbing onto his jaw with a sharply clawed hand. He gripped, hard, before pulling. A yell escaped the priest as he struggled against Nomos. Umbra came and circled, settling behind him, planting her hands upon his shoulders to hold him down.

A sickening _pop_ sounded, followed by a wail of pain. Nomos dropped his hand, watching as the jaw hung slack, tongue lolling. “That’ll cease your prayers. His Unholiness has no use of you. You’ve sinned, Monsieur.” He dropped into a crouch. His blade hissed as he drew it out, it’s twin remaining sheathed. He didn’t bother wasting anymore time, shoving the blade between the fourth and fifth ribs on the left side, tilted up. He watched in satisfaction as the man’s eyes widened, blood gurgling in his throat. Nomos twisted the blade before jerking it out and stepping back.

The door opened. More of Nihil’s Hounds stalked in. “Get rid of the body.” Nomos ordered, watching as the Ghouls obeyed. Umbra stepped closer, placing a gentle hand upon his forearm.

“You should go see what Nihil wants.” She spoke softly. Nomos nodded and sighed, wiping the bloodied blade clean upon the priest’s quilt that lay atop his bed. “I think we might be getting a new Ghoul.”

“A new Ghoul?” Nomos echoed, head tilting. He’d been here for over a century, now. No new Ghouls had been summoned. Why would they bring in another?

“It sounds like it. I’ve also heard talks of Nihil wanting another son- though, that’s not surprising. It’s always safer to have more than one heir, right?” Umbra lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Go see what Nihil wants.”

Nomos nodded, once, before leaving her behind with the other Hounds. None of them spoke- they never did, not when these sorts of things occurred. Silently, they began to clean the room, stripping it of all traces of the priest. She knelt beside his lifeless body and scowled, dragging a claw slowly down the side of his face, the skin splitting like butter beneath a hot knife.

* * *

The ritual was complete, and within the center of the summoning circle sat a Ghoulette- not young, not like how he was when he was summoned. She was older, not yet fully grown but not a mere kit. She sat, naked, blinking wide, light brown hues as she took in the robed figures and kneeling women.

And then, the air began to dwindle. It became harder to breathe. Nomos’s eyes widened before he quickly knelt down, drawing her attention to him. “You do not need to do that,” he spoke softly, tail swaying slowly behind him as he reached out a steady hand. “We mean no harm.”

“Where am I?” She asked, her voice more of a growl than anything. The sound alone had Nomos nearly backing down. Ghoulettes always were more dangerous than their male counterparts.

He didn’t drop his hand. “Earth. You’ve been summoned by the Unholy Church in the name of our Lord and Father, Lucifer.” As he explained, she slowly uncurled herself. A breeze drifted through the room, carrying the scent of heat. “You are among siblings, Sister. You are safe.”

The Ghoulette hesitated, long brown tresses hanging limply, curtaining her. Slowly, she reached out, grasping his hand with sharply clawed fingers. Carefully, they rose simultaneously. Umbra stepped closer, a robe in her hands. Nomos took it from her before draping it around the Ghoulette’s shoulders.

“Tell me, Ghoulette,” Vergil spoke softly, stepping forward. A kind, soft smile curled his lips as he kept his distance. “Do you remember what you were called?”

“My name was in the language of the Infernal. Your half mortal tongue could not pronounce it.” She replied swiftly, lip curling in a snarl.

“You are an Air Ghoulette… Yet you have no wings.” Umbra mused, head tilting to the side.

The Ghoulette hissed a warning sound. “My tribe no longer holds the wings of our ancestors.”

Umbra’s shoulders sagged. Nomos frowned, letting the words sink in. Behind him, Vergil stepped closer. “Then you shall be called Cirrus, after the clouds high in the sky.”  
The Ghoulette- now named Cirrus- nodded, as if satisfied. Her skin was a lovely shade, lighter than his own dark gray. Her gaze drifted towards him. “What are you called?”

“Nomos.” He answered honestly, before gesturing towards the Aether Ghoulette. “This is Umbra.”

“And he? Who is that?” She jerked her chin towards Vergil.

“My name is Vergil Donatello Emeritus. My father is the current head of the church. I am a Cardinal; I will one day take the mantle of head of the Church.” Vergil explained in that soft, sweet voice of his.

Nomos stepped back, watching as Cirrus crossed the summoning circle, her wind having blown out the candles. She stood a head and a half shorter than Vergil himself; she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. Beside him, Umbra tensed, claws poised to rip into the Void and pull Vergil away. But Cirrus didn’t attack. She merely looked, before a slow nod bobbed her head.

“I assume there is a contract?”


End file.
